Remembering a Great Warrior on Shavuot

Originally published on Huffington Post.

Although there are many grumbles about the barbeques and sales, Memorial Day is still dedicated to honoring the memories of those soldiers lost in battle. But this year, Memorial Day poses an interesting conflict with the Jewish calendar as it overlaps directly with the holiday of Shavuot.

The Feast of Weeks, as Shavuot is sometimes translated, is a festival of equal caliber to both Passover and Sukkot. Whereas Passover has matzah and the seder and Sukkot has the four species and the temporary dwellings, Shavuot does not have any specific rituals that would make it well-known to those who did not observe it. Celebrated following a count of 49 days after the first day of Passover, Shavuot commemorates the experience at Mount Sinai, when the Israelites received the Torah.

The coincidence of Shavuot and Memorial Day is not without some significance. In addition to commemorating the giving of the Torah, Shavuot is also the anniversary of both the birth and the death of King David, who is known for his prowess as a warrior.

The young David's introduction to the world of warfare was unintentional. During the reign of King Saul, the Israelites were at war with the Philistines (as was frequent during this era of Jewish history). The two armies had withdrawn from battle after the dramatic announcement by Goliath of Gath, a giant who had yet to be defeated in battle, that he would fight an Israelite champion, and "If he is able to fight with me [Goliath], and to kill me, then we will be your servants: but if I prevail against him, and kill him, then you shall be our servants, and serve us" (I Samuel 17:9).

Into this tense situation came David, a youth following his father's instructions to bring provisions to his three oldest brothers who were serving at the front. When David heard why the soldiers were sitting in their camps, he went to King Saul and volunteered to battle Goliath. Although at first the king refused, citing David's youth, he relented when David argued that he had successfully protected his father's flocks from wolves and lions and that he certainly could protect God's people with Divine assistance. David used his slingshot and surprised Goliath with a rock to the head, bringing victory to the Israelites.

With Goliath dead, a full fledged battle renewed, and young David was in the heart of it. This was the start of David's glorious military career. After the Israelite victory, the women of the nation sang, "Saul has slain his thousands, and David his ten thousands" (I Samuel18:7).

As king, David was one of the most successful military leaders in the history of Israel. According to the Midrash (Leviticus Rabbah 1:4), "[Some] say David waged 13 wars; [others] say 18. They do not disagree. Five were for his own needs, 13 were for Israel."

According to Jewish tradition, what made King David such an excellent military leader was the same quality for which he is considered the ideal King of Israel: his complete faith in God. In fact, the Midrash even credits his military skill as a result of his faith: "David said (Psalms 18:38), 'Let me pursue my foes and overtake them.' The Holy One, Blessed is He, replied 'I shall do so.' Thus it is written (I Samuel 30:17), 'David smote them from twilight until the evening of the next day'" (Pesikta Eichah Rabbasi 30).

It is more than a coincidence that King David's birthday/yahrtzeit is on Shavuot. For as much as he was a general and a politician, a husband and a father, a shepherd and a poet, King David was devoted to the Torah. In fact, he is attributed with creating the Book of Psalms, many of which he himself wrote. The Talmud relates that King David, knowing he was destined to die on Shabbat, begged God to let him die on the eve of the Sabbath (so that his body would not have to wait for burial). God replied by telling him that one day of David sitting and studying Torah was better to Him than the thousands of sacrifices that his son Solomon would (in the future) bring to the Temple, therefore God would not allow him to die even one day early. From that point forward, King David spent every Shabbat immersed in study, since the angel of death cannot approach one who is studying Torah. On his 70th birthday, which was on Shabbat, he paused from his studying to investigate a disturbance in his garden. When he climbed a ladder for a closer look, the ladder broke and "thereupon he became silent [from his studies] and his soul rested" (Shabbat 30a-b).

It's hard for us, today, to relate to biblical figures like King David. But as we face the upcoming weekend that is both Shavuot and Memorial Day Weekend, perhaps we can take the time to inspire ourselves and honor this great warrior in Jewish history by delving into the texts of the Torah that continually inspired him.

For those looking for some extra inspiration, an excellent first resource is the 'Jewish Treats: The Ten Commandments' ebook.

For more on the 49 days of counting between Passover and Shavuot, join the conversation and community by visiting the liveblog on HuffPost Religion, which features blogs, prayers, art and reflections for all 49 days of spiritual renewal between Passover and Shavuot.

Prayers from the Symphony

Last night I went to the symphony.

Doesn't that sound fine and fancy. It would probably be more accurate to say I went to the Orchestre symphonique de Montréal's Lang Lang concert. For those not in the know, (as I certainly was not beforehand), Lang Lang is one of the top pianists in the world. A native of China, Lang Lang began playing piano at age 3 and started his celebrated performance career at 17. Twelve years later, he has a Grammy, an honorary doctorate and a Sony recording contract.

We arrived at the hall in the nick of time. As the house darkened and Lang Lang began to play, the sadly boorish thought that went through my mind was, "How am I going to get through 2 1/2 hours without any  visual stimulus?" Does that demonstrate that I was a TV child (much as my folks tried to stop us)? Actually though, what I really wanted was pen and paper to doodle or write while I listened.

Being pen-less left me with an excellent opportunity to think. As I stared at his marvelous hands making magic on the keyboard and observed how his body seemed to absorb the emotions, I tried to focus on the feelings of both the composer and the pianist. Sadly, I was too unfamiliar to really understand it. On the other hand, from trying to understand the hidden meaning of the music I began to think about the relationship of prayer and music.

Let me take half a step back and share a slightly different train of thought. On our way to the concert, my husband turned on his new Sirius satellite radio to the all-Broadway channel (which he had programmed just for me). I used to love Broadway, and I still do, but I realized that I had long ago left the circle of real Broadway fans. I know many of the songs, but not the new ones and not the inside jokes. This lead me to later think about the people at the concert and how they were linked by a love of classical music...another circle into which I did not properly fit.

It would be wonderful if I could write here that I was transported by Lang Lang's incredible music to a euphoric state of communing with the Divine. It did not. But it did lead me to thinking about music and prayer, and how, several months ago, I told myself that I was going to try to pray more and that I was going to use my affinity for Broadway show tunes to do so. (Many years ago, I had found a profound connection between Les Miserables "Bring Him Home" and the situation of Nachshon Wachsman.)

Having resolved this line of thinking in my mind, my focus returned to Lang Lang. What process, I wondered, had gone into the development of the piano? What did the faces of the first people of the world look like when they pounded a hollow jar and heard a beautiful sound...and how had they gone from there to discovering the melodious vibrations of strings?

But the first instrument we ever had was the voices God gave us. The Torah has numerous references to song, most famously the song sung after the crossing of the Sea of Reeds. The Levites used to sing the Psalms in the Beis Hamikdash. Zemirot, the songs of the Shabbat table, are considered so essential that my son has a check box for whether or not he sang any at each of the Shabbat meals.

I can't play any instruments, and I am not very good with formal prayer. But I love to sing, so if you see me singing quietly in my yard, just remember that might be how I am praying.

Moldy Talk

Mold, yuck! Anyone who has suffered through mold issues will know my deep seated lament.

Our home in Montreal has three floors, but our problem was...our problem is...the basement. The inspector of the house noted that there was minor water damage in the spare bedroom in the basement. Wisely, we removed the carpeting that the previous owners had placed down there (with many speculations between us about why one would put carpeting in a room that sometimes gets water). Beneath the carpet was a beautiful hardwood floor, and it appeared to only be mildly damaged.

My husband, being the handy guy that he is, cut out and replaced the damaged wood. He sanded it and varnished it. He did a beautiful job.

Never having been homeowners, however, we were unfamiliar with the insidious nature of mold. The next summer, July brought forth torrential downpours...crazy storms that taught us exactly why there had been water damage. Both ourselves and the attached house suffered tremendous damage (although the neighbors had it far worse since they had not been home at the time of the rain and we had been unable to reach them so the water sat for 24 hours).

The saga of the basement was similar to my becoming Montrealers. Just as he did with his work fitting wood to the basement, he appeared to be finding ways to fit in to our new community. I was more like the warped wood that he removed. I had made a few friends, but I felt as if I would never quite fit in. Most of the mothers of my childrens' classsmates did not work. Many of those who lived here were from families deeply rooted in the community. Most of the women who were my age were making bar mitzvahs, my oldest was turning 4. But every time I felt as if I had made an inroad into the neighborhood, something would set me back and make me feel again like a stranger in a strange land. And of course, each time I would let my husband know all about my difficulties.

A year and a half after my husband’s incredibly hard labor, we realized that the floor would have to be pulled up. Mold inspectors told us what we needed to do. A huge chunk of change later, we were declared mold free. Our once lovely guest room was now a very spare room with a cold concrete floor. It took another year and a half (and the possibility of a border) for us to complete the room. Once again, my husband did a beautiful job.

In that time, I grew accostumed to the neighborhood. I joined a monthly learning group, and it opened up a new perspective on the women in my community. Some of the women, most of the women, in this group were women whom I had written off as those who would not befriend me. We may not be buddies, but I would say we are now friendly.  And now my husband has started attending a different synagogue, a synagogue about which I had said to my husband that the wives were those women who would never accept me.

This past Friday afternoon, my husband called me to the basement and pointed to a small tear in the wallpaper in the laundry-room. Beneath the paper, was mold. (It turns out that the condensation was leaking out of the dryer vent pipe.)

Ok, so perhaps you are bored now and wondering what possible connection I could make between mold and becoming part of a new community. This past Shabbas, the Torah portion was Tazria-Metzora, which is a lengthy discussion of a Biblical skin disease that afflicts more than just one’s skin. It also afflicts inanimate objects. According to tradition, these afflictions are the result of lashon Harah, speaking ill of others and gossiping. And so my holy husband said that perhaps our latest outbreak of mold being discovered during Tazria-Metzora is something that we should  keep in mind.

It was a lesson for me. A reminder that I had to judge more favorably those whom I felt were judging me.